Picking Up & Letting Go
by Dayliobserver
Summary: If the show´s writers won´t make him do it, then I will. JS story. Completed.


Title: Picking Up & Letting Go

Author: Day

Rating: Oh, there´s nothing really dangerous in here

Disclaimer: You know the drill: Nothing belongs to me and I´m not making any money. Unfortunately.

Spoilers: Not really. Takes place in late season 3, but can be read whether you have seen it or not.

A/N: As always, thanks to Diane for betaing. All feedback is welcomed.

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They were arguing again. Or maybe not exactly arguing, but there was definitely something going on. Jack watched through half-lidded eyes. Samantha was leaning against the conference table, her arms crossed tightly across her chest as she listened to whatever Martin was saying. She didn´t look pleased. From his office Jack had no chance of making out what they were talking about, but it was clear that Martin wasn´t getting the response he wanted because he suddenly threw up his hands in defeat and stomped off. He strode past Jack´s office without a look and continued toward the elevators, seemingly going home for the night. Jack looked at his watch; it was half past eight so Martin was free to leave. Danny and Viv did so an hour or so earlier. However, he did prefer his agents telling him when they left for the night instead of just taking off without a word. Jack sighed, but decided to let it go. He looked back at Samantha and saw her bent over her desk, going through paperwork. He sighed again, he himself had at least another hour´s worth of papers to get through.

He managed to get through one case file before his growling stomach reminded him he had yet to get some dinner. Getting out of his chair, he left the office and walked over to Sam, who looked up as she heard him approach.

"I´m going to get something to eat. Can I bring you anything?"

"No, thanks," she smiled briefly before looking back at her papers. "I already ate."

"Okay."

Jack lingered for a second, then left for the vending machine downstairs.

A sandwich, a coke and an hour and a half later, Jack was done with the last of the files. He pushed his chair away from the desk and got to his feet, stretching for a moment to get the stiffness out of his bones stemming from sitting still for too long. Switching off the lights in his office, he noticed that Sam was still working at her desk. Smiling, he went over to her. "Putting up a show for your boss? It´s okay; he´s leaving now. You can relax."

"You see right through me, don´t you, Jack," she replied wryly, returning his smile. "No, actually I was just comparing two old case files that I thought had some interesting similarities."

"Oh?" Jack perched himself on the edge of her desk. "Did you find anything useful?"

Sam regarded him thoughtfully. "Maybe, maybe not. I´ll have another look at it later. If I find something, I´ll let you know. Now, I´m going home."

She began to clean up her desk and Jack moved away to give her room. He watched her as she then started to gather her things and suddenly heard himself speak, "How about going for a drink?"

She stopped all movement for a moment, but then continued as she glanced at him. "A drink?"

"Yes," Jack shrugged, indicating it was no big deal either way. "I just don´t feel like going home right away."

She stopped again, watching him more closely, then glanced at her watch. "Oh, I don´t know, Jack. It´s getting late."

"Come on," he gave her a small grin, "humour an old man."

"What old man?" she deadpanned, holding his gaze for a few second before smiling. "All right then. Just one, and you´re buying."

"But of course," Jack answered with another grin.

She grabbed her coat and purse and together they walked to the elevators.

It was raining lightly when they got outside so they decided not to go too far and headed for a local bar called the Jazz House. They had been there a couple of times before, as it was place that was often frequented by people working at the Bureau. It was usually pretty crowded all night, but this time it was surprisingly empty.

"Guess all sane people have gone home, "Jack remarked as they found two stools at the bar.

"Guess so," Sam answered, turning to the bartender as he approached them. "What´s the most expensive thing you´ve got?"

It turned out to be fifteen-year-old Scotch and they both ordered one, Sam smirking slightly at Jack´s low groan when he checked the price list behind the bar. "Hey, you offered."

He gave her a look, but softened it with a smile. "I sure did. Remind me never to take you out to dinner."

She shot him a quick, almost furtive, glance, but Jack noticed. He had meant it in a perfectly innocent way, or so he thought, but he also knew that with their history something like that was bound to happen occasionally. He searched for something to say to ease the moment, but Sam beat him to it, smiling depreciatingly. "Shall do."

They sipped their drinks in silence for a few moments, then she asked casually, "So, how are Hannah and Katie?"

Jack gazed down at the smooth, worn wooden surface of the bar, sighing quietly, "Well, you know… they´re getting there."

"And you?"

He looked up to meet her eyes, hesitating slightly before speaking with a tired smile, "I guess I´m getting there, too."

She looked at him, then nodded as if to herself, and took another sip of her drink. Silence fell between them again for a long time and Jack was almost startled out of his reverie when Sam spoke softly, "So much is happening. The thing with Viv…" She looked to him. "It´s scary."

He nodded, "Yes, it is." He emptied his glass and automatically looked for the bartender. "I just wish she had told me sooner. Strike that, I just wish she had told me period. It was a helluva way to find out. Do you want another one?"

He could tell she was debating with herself whether or not to say yes, then she shrugged and said, "Sure, why not." A certain mischievous look showed on her face. "You´re still buying, right?"

Jack pretended to be shocked. "So much for equality." He waved at the bartender to get his attention. "Shouldn´t you be adamantly insisting to buy this round?"

"I´m a feminist, not an idiot," came her droll reply, causing Jack to raise an eyebrow in amusement. "Guess not."

He ordered two more drinks and after they arrived they touched glasses, toasting silently. Putting her glass back down, Sam spoke, picking up the thread from earlier, "I´m sure Vivian wanted to tell you. She just didn´t want anyone to unnecessarily worry about her."

"Well, as it turned out, there was something to worry about," Jack replied a little testily, then realized he was taking his frustrations out on the wrong person. "Sorry. I´m just…" he trailed off, but she understood, smiling faintly. "I know, Jack, I know."

Their gazes didn´t waver and they continued to hold eye contact for several moments before Sam finally looked away, her eyes coming to rest on her drink. Sighing quietly, she said, "It was difficult keeping it to myself."

"Keeping it to yourself?"

"Yes," she sighed again, glancing at him briefly. "I caught her wearing a heart monitor a little while ago. She asked me not to tell anyone."

"I see." Jack nodded slowly to himself, feeling unpleasantly sucker punched by the revelation.

Sam gave him a half sympathetic, half apologizing look and reached out to lightly touch his hand. "I´m sorry, Jack, but I couldn´t betray her confidence."

"I know, I know," he gently withdrew his hand from underneath hers and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "You were right not to tell anyone other than Martin."

Her hesitation was less than a second long, but it was there. "I didn´t tell him either."

Jack looked at her in mild surprise. "You didn´t?"

"No," she shook her head, turning slightly so she was facing the bar more than she was him.

"Why not? He would have kept it to himself I´m sure."

"Maybe," Sam acknowledged, taking a sip of scotch. "But Viv specifically requested me not to tell him either." She took another sip, then stated matter-of-factly, "I honour my promises."

"I know that." Jack watched her closely as he continued, "I just thought it would be difficult to know something like that and not share it with the…"

The fact that he faltered and didn´t elaborate made her turn to him. Meeting his eyes, she inquired in a low voice, "With..?"

He searched her face, trying to read her expression, but without success so he just finished quietly, "With…you know…"

She held his gaze for a moment longer, then slowly turned away. Without ever replying, she finished her drink and got to her feet. "I should get going. I´ll be taking the subway home tonight."

Jack quickly checked his watch. "It´s too late, let´s get you a cab instead." He reached into his pocket and fished out a couple of bills, tossing them onto the bar.

Sam nearly rolled her eyes, but then smiled instead, deciding not to put up a fight. She could handle herself, but when Jack worried about someone´s safety, he never gave in until he got his way.

Realizing he had won without a single word of protest, Jack grinned in triumph, getting to his feet as well. As they made their way through the bar, his hand found its way to her back, gently guiding. At first, neither noticed and when they eventually did, both pretended not to.

It was still raining, but the rain hadn´t picked up, which was fortunate since all yellow cabs suddenly appeared to have vanished from the surface of the earth. Sam hugged herself to keep warm, while Jack scouted for a cab to no avail. He offered to get the bartender to call for a car service, but she shook her head, claiming she didn´t mind the rain. They huddled close together, Jack still looking up and down the street when Sam said softly, "Thanks for the drinks."

He stopped looking for a cab just long enough to smile at her and say, "You´re welcome."

He continued to scan the street all the while he could sense her looking at him, but he didn´t pay much notice until he heard her say, "I had a good time tonight. Perhaps we could do it again another time?"

The quiet, almost hesitant quality to her voice made him turn to fully look at her. She wasn´t looking away, but she wasn´t really meeting his gaze either. However, when he didn´t respond, she eventually made eye contact and Jack smiled gently, causing her to smile as well.

"I´d like that."

She didn´t reply, but just nodded lightly. They held each other´s eyes for a few more moments, then both looked away. The timing was perfect as near seconds later, a cab rounded the corner and Jack took a step out into the street, waving to get the driver´s attention. As it pulled up to the curb, he turned back to Sam. "Okay, get home safely. I´ll see you in the office tomorrow."

She pulled open the cab door, but hesitated, "You´ll be all right?"

"Yes, my car´s in the parking garage."

"Okay then." She gave him one last smile. "Goodnight."

"G'nite."

He waited for the cab to disappear out of view before he turned around and walked back in the direction of the FBI building.

He was home not that long after, as traffic had been relatively light. Entering his bedroom, he sat down on the bed, reaching down and beginning to untie his shoes. Maria used to always insist he take them off in the hall, but now he didn´t see the point any more.

As always, thinking of her made Jack´s gaze automatically turn to the delicate gold band on his left hand. He held it up, studying it in the semi-darkness of his bedroom.

He had worn it every day since their wedding day, and now, even when it had ceased having any meaning, he still did. He knew why. If he took it off, there was no return. Everything that had happened would be unmistakably, undeniably, unbearably real. It had just seemed easier to leave it on. To pretend.

However, as he gazed at it now, he realized that it was also a constant reminder of his failure to keep his marriage intact and that as long as he still wore the ring, the failure would haunt him every time he looked at it.

He knew he deserved it, deserved to feel guilty, but… Jack studied the ring closer and slowly a strange expression appeared on his face.

He wasn´t sure any more that he deserved to feel guilty for the rest of his life.

Letting the hand fall into his lap, he reached out with the other to carefully touch the ring, slowly fingering it.

Only one other person had ever done that.

He thought of Samantha. He thought of the time they had spent together in the bar and he thought of her expressing the wish to repeat it. He thought of Martin.

But then one single thought pushed everything else away.

He thought of the half-spoken question he had asked her in the bar, the question she never did answer.

He raised his left hand again.

Vivian was the first to notice, but naturally showed no reaction. Danny was next and his slightly surprised expression caused Sam to follow his line of sight to Jack who was standing before them, arms crossed as he explained the details of their latest case. At first she noticed nothing unusual, then she saw it. The lack of tan at the base of his ring finger where the ring used to be.

Where _that_ ring used to be.

She could only look for so long before she had to look away, so quickly that Martin, who was sitting next to her, shot her a quizzical look. For the rest of the meeting, she kept her gaze low.

Reaching for her coat, Sam was about to leave when Martin walked up to her with a cup of coffee. "Here," he said with a small smile. "Peace offering."

She watched him for a moment, then smiled faintly herself and accepted the coffee. "Thank you."

"I´m sorry about yesterday," Martin continued, looking pleased and relieved by her reaction. "It was a stupid thing to fight about."

"It was," she acknowledged, "and I´m sorry, too. I know you went through a lot of trouble making the arrangements."

He shrugged, smiling half-heartedly, "Well, work comes first. I know that."

They stood in front of each other, neither really knowing what to say next. Then finally Martin took a deep breath, but Sam spoke first.

"I´m sorry, Martin, but I have to go. Jack´s waiting for me."

It briefly looked like he was going to say what he had originally intended, but then he just stepped out of her way. "Of course. Good luck."

She smiled at him before walking past him, heading in the direction of the elevators.

Martin remained where he was, looking after her long after she was gone.

The End


End file.
